“Not the most flattering photo of Emma, surely they can crop it a little better,” commented Xavier Coppock on a post where the athlete is shown finishing a race with a bloodstained one-piece swimsuit. It was at that precise moment that a long debate ensued.
Emma Pallant-Browne is a British athlete who competes in triathlon, duathlon, and aquathlon events. Among her latest achievements, she won a silver medal at the 2022 World Long Distance Triathlon Championships. In the prestigious Ironman 70.3 competition, she won 2 medals (silver in 2017 and bronze in 2022) and a gold medal at the European Championship in the same year.
In her latest multi-sport challenge, Emma finished fourth. The PTO Tour European Open in Ibiza was held just days after she won the Duathlon World Championship.
On the other hand, Xavier Coppock is another triathlete who decided to comment on a photo of Emma that had been published on the official profile of the competition that took place in Spain. Among the images, she is shown running with a red stain on her swimsuit due to her period.
Although we believe that the athlete’s comment was not made with ill intentions, his words caused a stir online. For her part, Emma was quick to respond. In the same forum, she tagged him and dedicated a few lines to him.
5 days later, the athlete uploaded the same photo to her profile. In the description, she sent an important message. “Celebrating the amazing women in sport and the equally amazing men who champion them. Humbled by the number of messages I’ve had from both men and women about the unglamorous reality of racing on your period,” she began.
In the post, she explained the factors that contributed to this situation. Her light pink outfit was chosen so as not to attract the sun’s rays, and she rolled over her bike, making the stain more visible. She squirted water at the hydration stations, but it failed to remove the stain.
“This is a women’s sport and the more barriers we can break, the better. After a long career, you end up with a photo like this, but the idea of editing it means there is something wrong with it. I share it because there’s really nothing wrong with it, it’s a natural thing,” she said.
“So if you have a photo like this, save it, cherish it, and remember how you performed on a tough day because one day you might just be able to help someone else with it,” she concluded in her powerful message.
The original post was deleted, but we still have Emma’s, which she posted on her profile. This athlete gave us a lot to talk about — she managed to turn a small comment into an empowering message regarding menstruation. It gave us pause and made us think about the natural things we should stop turning into taboos.
Preview photo credit em_pallant / Instagram, professionaltriathletesorg / Instagram
My Father Went Fishing with His Friends and Forgot My 18th Birthday
Ryder’s 18th birthday should have been a milestone celebration, but the absence of his father left him feeling deeply disappointed. Learning that his dad chose a fishing trip with friends over spending time with him only added to his heartbreak. However, what happened next led Ryder to see things in a new light. Let me introduce myself—I’m Ryder, and I recently turned 18. Before I dive into the story of my birthday, let me share a bit about my life. Things were pretty normal until I turned seven. That’s when the arguments between my mom and dad began. I didn’t fully understand what was happening at the time, but I could sense the tension. By the time I was eight, my dad was gone. I remember clearly the day my mom sat me down and explained, “Ryder, sweetie, your father won’t be living with us anymore. But you can still see him whenever you want, okay?”My heart skipped a beat.
“But why, Mom? Did I do something wrong?” Mom’s eyes welled up with tears, but she smiled gently. “Oh, no, honey. You didn’t do anything wrong. This isn’t your fault at all.” “Then why is Dad leaving?” I asked, desperate for answers. She took a deep breath. “Well, sometimes grown-ups just can’t live together anymore. Your dad and I tried really hard to make things work, but sometimes things just don’t turn out the way we hope.” “Can’t you try harder?” I pleaded, not ready to accept the reality. She pulled me into a hug. “We did try, Ryder. For a long time. But sometimes, the kindest thing we can do is to live apart. Your dad and I will both always love you, and that won’t ever change. We just won’t be living in the same house anymore.” And just like that, my parents were divorced. After the divorce, Mom took a job as an elementary school teacher, working tirelessly to give me a good life. I’ll always be grateful for that. But my dad? He became like a ghost in my life—always busy with work, friends, and his hobbies, especially fishing. Every weekend, he’d vanish with his buddies to go fishing, even when Mom reminded him that I’d be visiting. Despite everything, a part of me still longed for his attention. I wanted him to notice me, to be proud of me. So, I spent years trying to win his approval, hoping that one day he’d realize how much I needed him. But I was wrong. As my 18th birthday approached, I thought maybe, just maybe, he’d show up this time. Turning 18 is a big deal, after all. I planned a small party with Mom and a few close friends. I even texted Dad about it, and his reply gave me hope: “Sounds great! I’ll try to be there.” The day arrived, and Mom went all out—decorating the house, baking my favorite cake, and even surprising me with a new guitar I’d been eyeing for months. Friends started arriving, and the house was soon filled with laughter and excitement. But as the hours passed, there was still no sign of Dad. I kept checking my phone, hoping for a message, but there was nothing. Finally, I couldn’t take it anymore and decided to call him. When he finally picked up, I could hear the sound of waves and chatter in the background. “Dad, it’s my birthday,” I reminded him, trying to hide the desperation in my voice. “Oh, right. Happy birthday!” he replied casually. “I’m out on the lake with the guys. I’ll catch you later, okay?” I hung up, feeling tears blur my vision. I rushed to my room and hid there until Mom found me. She sat beside me, putting her arm around my shoulders. “I’m sorry, honey. You know how he is.” “I know,” I whispered, trying to stay strong, but inside, I was shattered. The days after my birthday were a blur. I pretended everything was fine, but inside, I felt invisible. Dad’s absence reminded me that I wasn’t important enough for him. Then, a week later, Dad called. He acted as if nothing had happened. “Hey, I got you a gift,” he said. “Want to come over and get it?” Part of me wanted to tell him to forget it, but another part still held onto that sliver of hope. So, I agreed. When I arrived at his house, he greeted me with a smile and handed me a long, mysterious package. As I unwrapped it, my heart sank—it was a fishing rod. “What do you think?” he asked proudly. “We can go fishing together sometime!” The fishing rod wasn’t just a poorly chosen gift; it was a symbol of his absence, a reminder of the very activity that had taken him away from me. “Thanks, Dad,” I forced a smile. “It’s… great.” He didn’t seem to notice my lack of enthusiasm. “I figured it was time you learned the ropes. You’ll have fun!” He then suggested we go fishing the next weekend, but I knew I couldn’t keep pretending everything was fine. “I… I can’t come next weekend, Dad,” I said. “I’ve got plans with Mom.” He frowned for a moment, but then his smile returned. “No worries, we’ll find another time.” But I knew we wouldn’t, and for the first time, I was okay with that. As I left his house holding the rod, I realized it was time to let go of the fantasy and accept the reality. I couldn’t keep chasing after someone who couldn’t be there for me. Over the next few months, I focused on the people who genuinely cared about me—my mom, my friends, and most importantly, myself. I threw myself into my music, practicing guitar for hours, and began helping Mom more around the house, grateful for everything she had done for me. One evening, as we were doing dishes together, Mom asked, “Have you heard from your father lately?” “Nah, but it’s okay. I’m done waiting for him to show up,” I replied. She looked at me with a mix of sadness and understanding. “I’m sorry it turned out this way, Ryder. I always hoped…” “I know, Mom,” I hugged her. “But I’ve got you, and that’s more than enough.” As time passed, I learned that my worth wasn’t tied to Dad’s attention. I found strength in the love and support around me and realized that sometimes people won’t be what you need them to be—and that’s okay. The fishing rod still sits in my closet, untouched. It serves as a reminder, not of what I lost, but of what I gained—self-respect, resilience, and the ability to let go of what I can’t change. What would you have done if you were in my place?
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